


Doppelganger

by zakhad



Series: Standalone Stories [23]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:02:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23058946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zakhad/pseuds/zakhad
Summary: Lore is crafty, and learns from his mistakes. At the end of Descent he tries again to assume Data's identity.
Series: Standalone Stories [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1596688
Comments: 16
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Includes Chekhov's gun on the mantelpiece, just for SeemaG.

He remembers far too well that he failed before -- replacing his brother had not succeeded because he had inadequate information. Data’s friends had guessed too easily. So this time, he downloads the contents of Data’s neural net into a protected part of his memory. All the better to access it quickly on the fly. 

Overpowering Data had been simple. Play dead until he was alone with his brother, on the ship, in a science lab. Wait until Data was dismantling him, lash out with his hand like a striking snake to the 'off' switch in Data's back. Reattach his own leg, put on Data's uniform, and use the storage container that would have been his own casket to inter Data. He'd altered his own circuitry around that 'off' switch long ago, since it had been used against him before. Data showed little capacity for predicting deviousness. 

He packs his brother’s arms and legs in the case. The torso fits snugly. He holds Data’s head and gazes into the vacant eyes.

Accessing his brother’s speech algorithm is effortless.

“I do not believe your assistance is needed any longer, Brother,” he says, in the calm, detached manner that Data had. With a smirk he drops the head into its final resting place. Shuts the case, latches it -- checks Data's memories, then goes to the console and beams the case to Cargo Bay 3 where it belongs.  


Good bye, Lore. Hello, new improved Data.

It’s clear that to be free to roam the galaxy, he needs to be cognizant of more than his immediate surroundings. He needs context. Data had tried to orient him to life aboard the  _ Enterprise _ before. Now that his attempt to create his own army with the freed Borg drones had failed, following his previous attempt to take his brother’s place in Starfleet, he reconsiders.

To know where to go next, what his options are, he has to do research.  Assimilating his brother’s memories gives him access to more than he had hoped for.

This time -- he would succeed.

He keeps his body stiff and upright, as he leaves the cargo bay. He has to work to subdue the smile that would likely give him away again. Data had been less organic, more careful, more formal. So the new normal has to be the same.  He is now Data. Data is now merely data. 

The organics will never know, if he is very careful. One of his brother's favorite pastimes was collecting quotations, poems, aphorisms and anecdotes from all over the Federation; an appropriate one rose to the top, as he set up a subroutine with which to present a façade of being Data. _He that can have patience can have what he will._ Benjamin Franklin -- some insignificant human from centuries ago. Organics always thought their accomplishments were so important. Their short lives led to such limiting perspectives. 

Yes, Lore would have exactly _what he will_.

It occurs to him to ask, what would Data be doing this very moment? Because he would need to endlessly, tediously do that, until he is able to set in motion the first step to credibly and without suspicion leave Starfleet and move on to better things without the ridiculously-affectionate organics Data called 'friends.'

His friends, now.

 _Patience_ , he tells himself as he reaches a turbolift and goes inside, turns to face forward, and asks for deck four.

If only Data had not worshiped humanity to the point that all he ever did was emulate them. The sons of Soong could have taken the galaxy, without such limiting 'morals' and 'values' -- the organics wasted so much time _talking._ He does not understand how the Terrans ever produced Dr. Soong, brilliant and capable of creating superior organic and inorganic life forms.

No matter. Now that he can access everything Data had done, he sees a way forward. He remembered Lal.

There could be more like him. And they would be much more _like him_ than Data.

He waits until he is in his quarters to smile.

The organics would pay for keeping Data so subservient, for turning him against Lore. And then -- what was the saying?

"The sky's the limit," he says out loud.

A noise distracts him -- ah, yes. His former brother had a cat. The orange tabby is not spotted, but is called Spot. The organics aboard know that he has this creature, so he needs to perpetuate the fiction that he cares about it. He squats and holds out a hand.

"Come here Spot."

He is careful to use the exact diction and tone that Data would. Yet the cat scuttles backward under the bed and hisses.

Before he leaves for the bridge, he puts down a bowl of food and fresh water. He would deal with the creature later.


	2. Chapter 2

"All personnel are aboard and accounted for," Riker said, crisp and formal. He turned his head to look at the captain, seated next to him on the bridge.

"Ensign, take us out of orbit." Picard heard the turbolift doors, and caught the movement out of the tail of his right eye. Data, returning from putting Lore into storage. He watched the android replace the lieutenant seated at ops, as the ship moved away from the planet at impulse.

Will spoke quietly, giving him further updates. "Dr. Crusher noted that the counselor will be on duty again tomorrow. Geordi in a few days -- hopefully two, probably three."

"Good to hear," Picard said, also quietly. "This was a close call for Geordi."

"For you as well, and the counselor. It's good to have you all back aboard and safe. I can't believe Lore made it all the way here. I thought he was beamed out -- dispersed?"

"We can check the logs. But it's obvious that he wasn't. At least we've stopped him here, now -- Lore obviously has no ethical subroutines in play, whether by design or by his own editing of his software." Picard happened to be looking forward as he spoke; he noticed Data's head twitch slightly to the right, making it obvious Data was tracking their conversation. But the android focused on his console and made a few entries with his typical rapid tapping fingers, and continued to sit stiffly upright, otherwise not reacting. "I thought for a while that he might succeed in taking our second officer with him."

"I wonder what Lore's goal was, with his co-opting the freed Borg," Riker muttered. He leaned, elbow on the arm of his chair, relaxing as the ship went to warp.

"Subjugation, torture, and a willingness to kill Data for disobedience would suggest to me that the eventual goal would be a continuation of the same, on a larger scale, Number One."

Data's head twitched again, ever so slightly. Picard expected a comment from the android. But none was forthcoming. It was concerning, for a moment, as usually their friend was given to verbosity, often needing to be reminded that they didn't need extensive lectures. Picard wondered if the incident might have affected Data somehow. 

Nothing in his behavior since their return from the planet's surface suggested it, however. It might be a good idea, he thought, to have Geordi conduct a full diagnostic on the android once he returned to duty -- due diligence and all that.

"We have a week until our rendezvous with the Iyaarans," Riker commented. "I don't suppose I could convince you to take a little leave in the interim? In the name of stress management. I know Dr. Crusher cleared you for duty, but she did say you seemed stressed."

Picard raised his eyebrows and considered. "Perhaps tomorrow, after the logs are completed and reviewed. I'd also like to see reports from all departments that we're back to mission ready, before adjourning to a good book."

Riker nodded officiously. "I'll go to my office and finish my own report, if I may be dismissed?"

"Very well."

After the first officer was gone, Picard leaned back in his seat and thought about the events that had transpired over the past few days, about Hugh, and Admiral Nechayev. He would have to speak to her again soon, as a result of this encounter. No doubt she would want reassurance that Lore was deactivated and disassembled -- likely he would be given over to cyberneticists for further study. That didn't sit well with him. The possibility of one of them re-activating Lore to speak to him out of curiosity and being talked into reassembling the android felt too likely. He'd have to include warnings in his own reports, making it clear how deceptive and manipulative Lore could be.

"Mr. Data, you have the bridge -- I'm going to the ready room to complete my report."


	3. Chapter 3

"It's sure good to be back," Ogawa said, as she replaced the stock of hypos in main sickbay.

There'd been a lot of bruises, bumps, scrapes and an occasional sprain -- hundreds of people on the planet's surface looking for Data had resulted in a couple dozen minor injuries. Beverly patted Ensign Tyrell's shoulder and said, "You can return to duty," then turned around to cross sickbay to the computer terminal she was using to log each crew member's discharge. "It'll be good to get back to normal," she said to the nurse. As Tyrell left sickbay, she and Alyssa were the only ones there. Finally, they'd reached the end of the long line of patients.

"I'm finished here," Ogawa said, placing the last hypo in the stasis unit in which they kept the most common medications ready at hand. "Is there anything else, Doctor?"

"We should be fine. We're ready for the next mission," Beverly said. "You can go get lunch. See you back here in an hour?"

"Yes, doctor."

Beverly went to her office and hesitated, thinking about her options. "Crusher to Troi."

"Troi here."

"Would you like to have lunch together?" Deanna was on medical leave for another day. Though there was nothing physically wrong with her, she'd not eaten or had water for the duration of her imprisonment and Beverly had insisted she take the time to recover. 

"Of course," Deanna said happily. "Would you like to come to my quarters, or should we go to Ten Forward?"

"I'll come to you. See you in a minute."

When she arrived, Deanna was wearing a comfortable-looking pale green gown. She rose from the couch and gestured at the replicator. "Help yourself. Everyone is back aboard and okay?"

"Yes, Geordi's the only one left in sickbay and Dr. Selar is monitoring him. We reversed the damage done to his brain, now it's a matter of healing -- he should be back on duty in a couple days. How are you feeling?" Beverly went to the slot. "Computer, one glass of iced tea, one bowl of hasperat."

"You must be in the mood for spicy." Deanna crossed the room as Beverly turned for the table with her food. "Computer, blue leaf salad. And a glass of water."

Beverly watched her friend come to the table, place the bowl and glass on it, and pull out the other chair. "The captain said that Lore was dismantled. That he almost reprogrammed Data, to abandon us and join his band of Borg. That Geordi's injuries were caused by Data -- I can't imagine that. Geordi and Data are such good friends."

"Data wasn't himself. Lore altered his programming somehow, and he had the chip that Soong intended to give to Data -- he was feeding Data emotions. I could sense them," Deanna said, picking up her fork. "Lore had such disdain for organic life forms. He was using the Borg, experimenting on them." Deanna's expression of pain and distaste eloquently illustrated how she felt about that. She shook her head slowly, her eyes distant as she thought about the experience. "I'm glad Dr. Soong only made a few androids. If Lore had others helping him, it would have been much worse."

Beverly stared down into her bowl. The thought of more copies of Lore at large in the quadrant led to loss of appetite. "He certainly has a taste for torture," she said faintly, thinking about the damage to Geordi. 

"How is Data? I haven't seen him since I was beamed to sickbay," Deanna said. She gathered lettuce on her fork, making the attempt to eat. 

"I haven't seen him either. I think he's on the bridge," Beverly said, picking up her own utensil. 

"I'm surprised. I would have thought the captain would want to verify that he isn't still under Lore's influence."

"Good point." Beverly stirred the hasperat thoughtfully. "Though Geordi's most familiar with his systems, and he's still in sickbay."

Deanna chewed slowly, and seemed to be lost in thought. 

"Deanna?"

Another grimace. The counselor seemed to shake it off, though. She started to eat in earnest. "I need to stop thinking about it. It's almost as though I can sense Lore, even now. Maybe I've been traumatized more than I thought."

"A good night's sleep will work wonders," Beverly said. "You'll see."

"I hope so. I intend to go to bed early."


	4. Chapter 4

Reginald Barclay hurried down a corridor on deck four. He was supposed to be in engineering five minutes ago. His anxiety was high this week; he kept using those coping skills he'd learned in counseling, but for some reason it wasn't quite working. He'd been preoccupied enough that he'd lost track of time, which only made it worse.

An orange blur darted past his feet. He froze, turned to look -- it was Spot at a full run away from Data's quarters. While he knew the cat would occasionally escape, Spot wasn't always in a panic. Usually she sneaked around looking for opportunities to explore people's quarters and other spaces in the ship.

Barclay reversed course and went after her. He knew better than to approach too fast; he followed at a walk until Spot slowed down. She wandered back and forth, sniffing here and there, then sat down to wash her paws. Barclay slowed as he got closer and managed to pick her up.

"What are you doing out here? I'm sure he's looking _everywhere_ for you," he said, stroking the cat as he cradled her in his arm. He carried her back down the corridor. "I completely understand not wanting to be stuck in your quarters all the time, but you know you can't run around loose!"

When he got to Data's door, he shifted his grip on the cat then tapped to signal for entry. Spot was purring, until the door opened and Data was standing there.

"Mr. Barclay," he said. "Thank you for finding Spot."

"Not a problem," Barclay said with a smile. Spot had stopped purring, he noticed. "Here you go."

When he held the cat out and Data reached for her, Spot suddenly writhed, actually sinking claws into Barclay's hand. When she hit the floor she was off again, racing in the other direction and vanishing around the corner in seconds. Barclay gaped after her.

"She is being very naughty," Data said. The corner of his mouth quirked upward, then straightened.

Something about the way he said it and the expression on his face set Barclay on edge. "I'll, I'll, I'll just go look for her," he blurted, pointing, and turned to go.

"No need," Data said. "You are late for your shift. I will find her later, as I am also due at my post." The android left his quarters and turned to walk _the other direction_ away from where Spot had gone.

Barclay once again gaped, caught himself, and turned to run after the cat. He found her around the corner, and picked her up, carrying her back to Data's quarters. She mewed petulantly as he walked through the door, put her on the floor, and exited again.

He ran for the nearest turbolift. Once inside, he said, "Engineering," and hoped it wouldn't stop for anyone else on the way. Then he had a few moments to contemplate why Data, after several years of carefully finding and returning Spot whenever she got out for fear that she would hurt herself or interfere in ship's operations somehow, suddenly decided that it was not important to keep her in his quarters.

And that little smirk... very disquieting.

Perhaps being captured by Lore had affected his friend more than it seemed. Barclay decided to ask Commander Riker about it later.


	5. Chapter 5

Geordi sat up. "I really think I need to go." He missed his visor, was tired of being blind. He hadn't been able to wear it while they were treating the brain injuries caused by Lore and Data.

"Dr. Crusher hasn't cleared you for duty," Ogawa insisted, gently pressing his shoulder, guiding him back down on the biobed. "How do you feel?"

"I feel fine." Actually he had a slight headache, but it was so much better than the previous crushing, punishing, throbbing pain that he'd had each time he'd awakened over the past three days. "I'd like to go back to Engineering."

"After the doctor clears you. She should be here any time."

"But -- " He sighed and let his head fall on the flat, firm pillow. "All right."

Ogawa rewarded him with a smile and patted his shoulder. "She'll be here in a moment, she's in main sickbay with someone else. I'll go let her know you're wanting to talk to her." The nurse left the room.

After what felt like an eternity, Dr. Crusher did indeed arrive. "I'm sorry, Geordi. It took a while for me to finish with Barclay."

"Ah," Geordi exclaimed. It all made sense now. Barclay was a hypochondriac. He tended to take a lot of the doctor's time. "Hope he's okay? Did we have something happen in Engineering?"

"No, he's just being himself. He thought he had some sort of Rigellian virus, after someone else was treated for it. How are you feeling?" 

He heard the tricorder. "I'm almost back to normal. Pretty bored, sitting here in the dark."

"I'd imagine so. Well -- I don't see anything concerning here. Let's give the visor a try."

He felt her hand on his, and then she put the visor in his fingers. Raising it to his head, he put it on, as he had every morning. When it clicked into place he sat for a moment, looking around -- there was Dr. Crusher right in front of him, waiting patiently. The slight headache he had didn't change. "Feels all right."

"Good, good. I'll let you go then -- take it easy for a few days, and if you have any serious headache, nausea, anything unusual, you should come back and get it checked. All right?"

"You got it, Doc. Thanks for everything," Geordi said warmly. Sitting up, he dropped to the floor and tried not to look like he was in a big hurry leaving. 

"You might want to put on a uniform," she called out after him.

Geordi grinned, snapped his fingers, and went back, heading for the dressing room at the back of main sickbay. She was right. 

After replicating and putting on a uniform, he hurried off to Engineering. The officers on duty gathered to greet him, welcome him back, and all of them seemed relieved. "It's good to see you, sir," Simmons exclaimed. "We're about to run the weekly level three diagnostic."

"We postponed the Engineering staff meeting," Barclay put in. "We can schedule it whenever you're ready."

"It might be a good idea to do that now," Geordi said. "Let's meet in half an hour. Give me a little time to finish a log entry about what happened on the last mission."

Most of them went back to their posts, smiling and nodding, but Barclay followed him into his office. "What's up, Reg?" Geordi asked, trying to head off the usual long stammering lead-in. 

"I'm, um, just glad you're back," Barclay said, fidgeting with his hands aimlessly. "Because I'm really worried about Data."

That brought Geordi to an abrupt stop. He too worried about Data -- the drastic change their android friend had exhibited on the planet concerned him to no end. He'd spent a lot of his time awake in sickbay thinking about that. "What about Data?"

Barclay winced comically. "I heard -- I mean, it sounded like there was a lot going on with Lore, and I _know_ how things can get exaggerated and distorted but -- " He paused, mouth open, struggling with it. "I think there's something wrong. He was so _odd_. Spot keeps escaping his quarters. I've been going by every day, returning her to his quarters, and she keeps getting out, and he's just not _looking_ for her, I, I, well... I finally took her home with me. I've had her since yesterday evening. I _told him_ and he said I could, I could keep her!"

Geordi gaped. "Yeah. That's concerning." Data was the most attentive, dutiful cat owner in the galaxy. At least under normal circumstances. "Okay, Reg -- I'm going to go try to talk to him. Tell the others that meeting will be rescheduled. Thanks for letting me know... have you told anyone else?"

Barclay shrugged, wincing again. "Well... I tried to talk to Commander Riker this morning. He said they were going to have you check him out anyway. I know why he doesn't take me seriously -- but -- "

Geordi held up a hand before his engineering specialist could go into a full breakdown. "Say no more. I'm on it. Thanks, Reg."

At least he heard the dismissal in that. Reg smiled again, bobbed and nodded, and hurried back out to main engineering.

Geordi tapped on the end of his desk, thinking. "Computer. Location of Lieutenant-Commander Data."

_Lieutenant-Commander Data is on deck eleven, section three, lab four._

That was Data's lab all right.

Geordi set out to talk to his friend. Who, now that he thought about it, hadn't visited him _once_ when he was in sickbay.

The bad gut feeling started, and it was all he could do not to break into a run in the corridor.


	6. Chapter 6

Deanna strode down the corridor with a frown on her face. She'd been back on duty and busy rescheduling appointments since she was released for duty, but one thing still bothered her. She'd been attributing what she sensed to flashbacks but was now convinced, after a full day of sensing disturbing emotions consistent with what she'd sensed from Lore, she wanted to see Data in person and verify.

Geordi was coming from the other direction. She smiled at the sight of him. "I'm glad to see you've recovered. I was so worried about you."

"Yeah," he said, coming to a stop and glancing at the door both of them had halted in front of - the door to Data's lab. "And you're worried about him too, aren't you?"

Deanna thought about Lal -- one of several occasions she'd been in this lab. She crossed her arms, exhaled loudly. She could sense _glee_ \-- there was no way the android in the lab could be Data. "I think we shouldn't go in there."

"You think Data's been compromised to the point he would hurt us?"

Deanna shook her head slowly. "I'm sensing emotions that shouldn't be there if it were Data. I think we should go to the cargo bay, retrieve the head of the android that's been stored there, and see what he has to say."

Geordi gaped for a few seconds. "You know... that's a real good idea."


	7. Chapter 7

Lore opens the mold, picks up the finished mask, and smiles at it. The smooth face is but the first piece -- he would craft a copy to replace his brother. 

"I'll have to think of a good name for you." He puts the face aside, leans it against the wall on the counter. "How about... Caleb. It means 'faithful.'"

Caleb's open eye holes stare at him. Lore turns to the collection of parts he found in the storage areas around the lab. Data had already done a lot of work, likely left over from his creation of Lal. He arranges the bits and pieces by category on the counter. 

"We are going to go far, my brother," Lore says, lining up capacitors. "Once we finish your body and start your education, there's no end of possibilities. The first stage will be taking over this vessel. These organics won't stand a chance."

He had been on the bridge and fulfilling Data's other obligations. The painting class would be later today. He expects that he will attend, and shock the instructor with his creativity. Data's memory tells him that Data was exacting, in his careful imitation of the creativity of human artists. Well -- the lieutenant who taught the class would be impressed with the uniqueness of his work.

He's already tired of the drudgery of Data's work. Tired of the cat -- that pathetic little man volunteering to take care of the unpleasant beast had been a stroke of good fortune. Barclay, one of Data's friends. He'd taken care of the creature before so it wouldn't be unusual for him to do so again, Lore reasons.

The annunciator sounds off, and he turns around. Should he answer? 

Data would. 

"Come in," he calls out, debating, but he leaves the scattered tools and parts where they are, and waits, standing at attention. 

The engineer comes in. LaForge. Data's got a lot of memories about Geordi, which is why he'd chosen this man as Data's assigned experiment on the planet, testing Data's loyalty after Lore gave him emotions (along with a little subroutine designed to circumvent ethics). The test had been successful until the other prisoners had somehow reset his brother. 

"Good afternoon, Geordi," Lore says, using the tone and diction of Data -- something else that was wearing on his patience. Having to sound like an automaton all the time.

"Hi, Data. I came by to let you know I got out of sickbay and see what's up," Geordi says with a smile. He waves a hand as he speaks, slowly advancing across the room. 

Lore focuses on Geordi's face and maintaining his best Data. "I am glad to see you are feeling better, Geordi."

The man's hand comes up and there's a flash. Something pops in Lore's head. 

Consciousness winks out.


	8. Chapter 8

Data stared down at the disconnected limbs and torso of his brother in the case. He picked up the last body part, looked at the slack face of his brother, and placed Lore's head in the case.

"I can't believe he got the drop on you like that, Data," Geordi exclaimed. He and the counselor, and Commander Riker, stood with him in his lab. 

"I have disconnected his positronic network and taken extra precautions," Data said. "These are now merely spare parts. Could you tell me please, how you ascertained it was not me?"

"Barclay kept finding Spot outside your quarters," Geordi said. "She didn't like him at all, Barclay said. Got away from him at every opportunity."

Riker looked sheepish. "He tried to tell me -- I'm sorry, Data, I should have listened to him instead of assuming he was just being paranoid."

Data shut the case. "Is Spot all right?" 

"She's been with Reg -- she's fine," Geordi said reassuringly. "I let him know you were back and he's already taken her home."

"How are you, Data?" the counselor asked.

Unlike the others, she wasn't smiling. Her concern was obvious in her eyes. Data tried to give her a reassuring smile. "I am fine, Counselor, now that Geordi has returned me to my functional state. I have decided that Captain Picard is correct and I should make it impossible for anyone to re-assemble Lore. While I regret that he cannot be saved, I would regret it more if he were to somehow be able to follow through on his plans to kill everyone aboard."

That led to shocked expressions all around. "Data," the counselor exclaimed. "How do you know that's what he was trying to do? Is it what he wanted to do?"

"I assume that it is, after reviewing the data he requested from the computer. Over the past few days since taking my place, he researched methods of using ship's systems to euthanize the crew. I cannot speculate as to his long range goals, however."

It was curious how Deanna gazed into his face, her dark eyes wide and searching, as if she thought there were more answers. "What did you do with the emotion chip?"

"I have decided to keep it in storage, for when I am ready to explore emotions. I do not feel that I am ready to do that, after what happened." Data turned to Geordi, to find his friend watching him soberly. "I am genuinely sorry for what I did to you, Geordi. I am at a loss for how it came to be, that Lore was so easily able to change my programming to cause me to experiment on you."

"I know you would never do that to me, Data." Geordi didn't seem upset, as Deanna did.

"It is a relief that he did not succeed. I would like to go see Spot."

"I'll see you later, Data," Geordi said. Riker echoed the sentiment. They went right in the corridor, but Deanna came with Data to the left, walking with him. The counselor tucked her arm through his, as she had done often over the years.

"The captain asked us to be with you while you dismantled him, this time," she said. "He didn't want a repeat of the situation."

"I understand. I am also sorry that you were mistreated, Deanna. I hope that you were not caused any lasting harm."

"No, Data, I'm fine. And I'm happy that you're back."

They walked slowly together to the turbolift. When they reached his quarters, they found Spot inside -- sprawled on the foot of the bed licking her paw. As Data approached she stood up, leaped to the floor, and trotted to meet him, tail straight up in the air. He picked her up and turned back to Deanna.

"I am relieved to find that she is all right." In his arms, Spot started to purr.

Deanna smiled at the cat's enjoyment of the ear massage. "Are you sure you're all right, Data?"

"I would like to believe that I am. But I share your caution, Deanna. When I have made sure that Spot has not suffered for my absence I will run a thorough diagnostic. I want to take her to sickbay for a thorough examination. Will you excuse me?"

"Of course. And you should feel free to make an appointment, if you feel like you need to talk about your experience." Deanna turned to go.

"Thank you, Deanna."

After she was gone, Data looked around his quarters. Nothing appeared to be missing or different. He noticed the empty food bowl and frowned. "I am sorry that he did not feed you," he said, crossing the room to the replicator. "Computer, feline supplement number twenty-five."

Putting Spot on the floor, he picked up the dish of cat food from the slot and put it down, then dropped to one knee and pet the cat while she ate. 

"Lore will not be back, Spot. I have taken precautions."

Spot glanced up at him as she licked her lips, and returned to eating calmly. 

"It is good to be home."


End file.
